Randomness In All Things
by soaring bubblegum
Summary: As far as everyone knew every single Headmaster (or Headmistress) of Hogwarts had always had some tray of sweets in their office. (Drabbles about the Harry Potter series, some may be AU. Rated M for safety. Will include same sex pairings)
1. Headmasters and Headmistress

**AN: This will be a series of auto conclusive one shots (or they should be) that will be posted (not) regularly. They may be about everything and nothing about the Harry Potter series. Some are AU, like this one, and some may be canon. Enjoy.**

**Headmasters and Headmistress**

As far as everyone knew every single Headmaster (or Headmistress) of Hogwarts had always had some tray of sweets in their office.

Albus Dumbledore had been rather _fond_ of the muggle lemon drops. He had always offered one before talking to whomever entered his office. Be it the Minister of Magic, the Boy-Who-Lived or a rather scared Slytherin first year that had been hexed in the hallways by second year Gryffindors. He'd always had a fond smile, crazy twinkling blue eyes and weird robes.

Weird robes as in: why is it so purple? Are those _neon_ unicorns? - That one just moved, didn't it?

Thing was, nobody knew where in the nine rings of Hell he got them. They had to be custom-made, it didn't make any sense otherwise. Anyway, we've drifted away from the main topic.

Sweets.

Minerva McGonagall, first Headmistress of Hogwarts, had been a silent fan of biscuits. Cinnamon ones to be more exact. Oh, but they weren't just regular biscuits you see… they were hand-made by a very special someone.

Harry James Potter. Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, Vanquisher of Evil, the Next Dark Lord, Potty, Boy Wonder, Lionheart and Grey Lord.

Yes, grey.

(But it does not concern us at this time how Harry Potter, beacon of the Light, became a Grey Lord)

Harry J. Potter was rather apt at cooking and baking. He was so good that even _Molly Weasley_ took notes here and there whenever the young man used the kitchen. He was so good that a lot of patissieres owled him to ask about some cake or another. He was so good that there were some rumors that someone somewhere had started a _cult_.

No, we are not going to go _there_.

When asked about his mastery of the culinary arts young Lord Potter shrugged and offered a charming smile. How Slytherin of him to blind the masses with a toothy gleaming smile and skillfully changing the topic at hand.

This brings us to today.

Harry James Potter (also Black, because Sirius Orion Black had left him Lord of the House, and also somewhat Lupin because Remus had died at the Battle of Hogwarts and had left him in charge of young Theodore Remus Lupin) was the current Headmaster at Hogwarts. His choice for sweets was rather interesting to say the least. Treacle tart was his favourite food and so he offered a slice to everyone who entered his office. Not that people were complaining, the tart was heavenly but a rather strange choice of sweets. The two previous Headmasters had chosen something smaller and more manageable but it would seem that Harry Potter was not to be outdone in such matters.

It was rumored that each Headmaster tried to best the former ones by trying to get them to favour their office sweets over those of another's. It was one of the many mysteries of Hogwarts and no student really questioned it, after all there were a dozen secret passages that led somewhere, some just were a dead end, some lead you to certain death and one lead to Honeydukes.

Yes, Honeydukes. More sweets. When asked about the existence of such secret passage Headmaster Potter smirked and told the press that he really did not know where they had gotten the idea that such a thing existed. They wouldn't want to endanger their students.

Right?


	2. Headmaster Potter

**Headmaster Potter**

His office was order in chaos. Trinkets of varied value decorated all the shelves in his office, some twinkled, some chimed, some looked rather dubious, others were plain garbage, others… looked rather dark in nature.

A Hufflepuff student had claimed once that one of the trinkets in Headmaster Potter's office had tried to bit his finger off. The Headmaster hadn't been asked his opinion on the matter, after all who would dare demand answers from the Vanquisher of Evil? No one, that's who. Even the bloody press walked on eggshells around him most of the time.

People said he had _Rita Skeeter_ wrapped around his little finger.

One of said trinkets was something more of a lethal weapon than a trinket. The Sword of Gryffindor gleamed under the evening sun that streaked through the windows of the Headmaster's office. There had been talks about how the Headmaster had beheaded the beast that lived in the Chamber of Secrets back in his second year. About how he had valiantly saved the little sister of his best friend, Ron Weasley, from an evil artifact that was cursed.

Evil artifact indeed.

The former horcrux was still in the Headmaster's possession. Not that he had told anyone that he still had it. Hermione would lecture him for hours and he didn't want to get scolded like a child for keeping a lost puppy that may have rabies. He kept Tom Riddle's diary under key and lock and several warding shields and notice-me-not's… No, he was most definitely _not_ paranoid. Just wary. Really, he didn't want to get a scolding. It was more of a Mad-Eye thing.

_Constant vigilance, Potter!_

_Aye, sir._


End file.
